


The Chair

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [69]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Panty Removal Recommended..., Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond and M find a good use for her office chair...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts), [Wolfsbride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/gifts).



> Fic four in the post-Quantum of Solace series that I didn't mean to write... (The other three being [The Bath](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2066580), [The Desk](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2125977), and [The Wall](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2131320).)

The new office isn't to M's tastes at all: it's too high-tech, too modern, and too exposed; she longs for her old office, with its comfortingly traditional accoutrements. The steel and glass table irritates her, and she misses having a computer on her desk: somehow, the technology wall feels too gimmicky.

She might, she concedes, be willing to forgive them the chair, however.

Or maybe it's just what Bond's doing to her in the chair.

It's late in the evening, almost everyone else has, sensibly, gone home, but Bond only got back from his most recent mission a couple of hours ago, and she's meant to be debriefing him.

In fact, what she's doing is slouching in her leather chair, her skirt gathered around her waist, her knickers on the floor, and her legs spread wide to give Bond the fullest access to her. He's just come back from Tibet, and has learned a new trick, he told her – although kissing the back of her knee is not a new trick at all.

His mouth is hot on her skin as he kisses his way up her leg to her thigh, then switches to the other leg and repeats the process. New trick or not, she can feel her arousal growing, helped she's sure, by the way the front of his trousers are filling out as his cock swells. She is so distracted by the sight that she startles visibly when she feels something warm and liquid being trickled onto her shaved mound.

"James?"

He lifts his head and smiles at her, passing her the small bottle in his hand, and she's surprised to see it's massage oil. Before she can wonder why he's pouring the stuff over her, his long, dextrous fingers begin massaging her mound and the outer lips of her pussy. She groans loudly at the sensation, as he takes one of her outer lips between his index finger and thumb and squeezes gently, before sliding his fingers up and down rhythmically; after a few moments, during which M's begun to feel pretty boneless, he switches sides, and uses his left hand to squeeze and stroke the other outer lip.

James is watching her from his position on his knees, and she can see he's enjoying making her moan, and then he shifts his fingers and begins to squeeze the inner lips of her sex, both sides at once, 

He was using both hands now, she noticed, his strokes evenly matched on either side of her opening, and she can feel her arousal coiling tighter and tighter as she approaches her climax. Then he lowers his head and sucks hard on her clit and she comes with a loud cry, her body jerking violently on the chair.

When she becomes aware of anything other than a sensation of pure pleasure, James' right hand is inside her, his thumb moving in clockwise, then anticlockwise, circles around her clit as he fingerfucks her. He's unfastened his trousers, she notices, and his swollen cock is protruding from the opening, and she hopes he intends to fuck her properly.

M comes a second time when James' mouth again descends on her clit, and she finds herself hoping that the security man isn't making his rounds or he might hear her cries of ecstasy. 

When Bond straightens up to his full height, she eyes his cock, and can't help licking her lips in anticipation of having it buried inside her. She smirks as he pulls a tube of lubricant from his trouser pocket, then shoves at his trousers so that they fall to his ankles. He then scoops her up from the chair, turns, and sits back down, lowering M down to sit on his thighs. She takes the lube from him and squirts some into her hand, then spreads it on his cock, and it's her turn to smirk when he groans at the sensation.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"Fuck me, James," she orders him, and he lifts her up to impale her pussy on his cock.

"Thank god this chair hasn't got arms," he mutters, and she laughs.

"It had arms when it arrived," she tells him, "but I got them taken off."

"Good," he grunts, then lifts her up and she puts her arms around his neck, then lowers herself back down onto his cock.

It doesn't take them long to establish a rhythm, and M enjoys riding Bond's cock; she can tell he's enjoying it too. 

"Not gonna last much longer," he tells her a little while later, his breathing as ragged as hers. M nods, continuing to ride him until he comes with a loud shout, then his fingers are on her clit and she swiftly follows him over the edge.

She slumps against him, and feels his lips nuzzling her; for a moment she's too spent to even speak, let alone move, and she stays where she is, waiting for her heart to stop pounding quite so violently.

When she feels a little more energetic she sits up, then looks down into Bond's face. "Come and have dinner with me," she says, and he smirks, knowing as well as she does that this is not only an invitation to dinner, but to spend the night and indulge in further fucking of his diminutive boss.

"I must say," he observes quietly, "that if I'd known getting to spend time fucking you was going to be my reward for good behaviour on my missions, I'd have started behaving much sooner."

"007." Her tone is stern and repressive, but she can't keep a smirk from quirking the corners of her lips, and he chuckles when he sees it.

She lifts herself off his lap, aware of the sticky residue on her thighs, and tugs her skirt down, doing her best to make it look less crumpled. She glances at Bond sprawled in her chair, his flaccid cock resting limply on his thigh, and she has to fight the urge to lean in and start sucking it until he's hard again. She'd better give the poor man a chance to recover, and feed him first – then she can have her wicked way with him again.


End file.
